Untitled
by Phlossy
Summary: Sirius escapes the veil. He kills Lucius and Narcissa. And takes Draco to Grimmauld place. What will ensue?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: cringes Okay, I know people liked this story, but I am some-what eager to please, and since not everyone was happy with my story, and I personally was not all that happy with it, I have decided to take it down, and re-do it. If anyone is interested in being a Beta Reader for me, please let me know. I do read all reviews, so just put it there. Serious offers only, please. I don't want people who don't know what they're doing. I want anal-retentive-to-detail people, Adrian Monk people. Lol. Anyway, please not, this is a WIP (work in progress), so please be kind. So, without further ado, here is the new, reinvented first chapter of… Whatever I decide to call this story… I was considering Musing of a Malfoy, but if you have a better suggestion, please let me know! All prospective titles will be greatly considered by Night Lady and me.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. (**I got this part from one I saw elsewhere… Don't know where, though… If it's yours, I will giver you credit.**If I did, it would be called Draco Malfoy, and it would be rated Adult.**

** As usual, flames will be used to toast marshmallows to make smores. They're yummy. Also, please note, if you flame me, back it up with evidence. If you say my story sucks, tell me why it sucks. Also, have a backbone. Don't flame anonymously. I'm thinking about maybe making it so that you have to login to review, so don't be surprised if that's the case. Enjoy, or don't enjoy, my story as you see fit! **

To any passing muggle, the pair walking by could have been father and son, or simply relatives, despite that the younger had silver-white hair, and the older, pitch black. Hair color was one of their only differences: both men had a slight build, and they both had an aristocratic bone structure and carriage.

Of course, the youth and the ex-con-presumed-dead-in-a-veil were no more father and son than the Queen was a frog. If one looked closely, the younger of the two quaked slightly, and nearly tripped more than once. Eyes red with withheld tears blinked absently, as though he had seen something terrible that he had never expected. In truth, the youth had probably never expected to see his mother's cousin kill Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.

No, the eldest, Sirius Black, was not a Death Eater sent from Voldemort to kill the Malfoy Family, when Draco's mission to kill Dumbledore failed. Sirius Black had escaped the Veil in the Department of Mysteries and had taken revenge, for an unknown reason, on the Malfoy parents. However, with the killing of his parents, 17 year old Draco Malfoy had to be taken along when Sirius left the scene. No one could know what happened.

As the pair reached Grimmauld Place, Sirius handed a tiny slip of paper, no larger than half of a gum wrapper, to Draco. "Think this address, directly as it is written." Sirius stated, not looking at the boy. Looking down, Draco read the slip of paper. Looking back up, he saw the houses start to separate and new one formed between. He barely felt Sirius take back the paper.

"Let's go." Sirius said, as he led the youth into the 'new' house. No sooner had the duo walked into the kitchen of the house than Molly Weasley, who had been carrying an open sack of flour to the counter from the pantry, let out a shriek and threw the flour, thus turning the room white.

The loudness of her shriek caused everyone in the house to come running to the kitchen, and none of the people who saw the cause of the ruckus were very happy. "Sirius! Damnit, he shouldn't be here!" they all said, in some form or another. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all hung back. Quickly, they all took off for the almost-cleaned-out sitting room.

The teens, ranging from 17 to 15 years of age, had all known Sirius Black had escaped the veil. They had all known that he would probably strike out at those he felt the need to, after being trapped behind a piece of fabric for almost a year. They just didn't know that Sirius would kill the Malfoys.

"Jeez… Why couldn't he just kill Malfoy and get along with it?" Ron grumbled.

Harry laughed uneasily. "Dunno. Maybe he just couldn't do it, you know? Not that I see why. I mean, Malfoy's a prat."

Hermione threw both of the boys a look. "If Sirius left him alive, then there must a reason for it! Just leave it alone." She said, muttering the last part. Ginny nodded in agreement with her older friend.

"She has a point you know." Ginny said, noticing the looks on the boys' faces.

"Hermione! God, why are you defending him?" Ron suddenly yelled, out of no where. Hermione got up from where she was doing her summer homework, and yelled back. "I am not defending him, Ronald! I am defending Sirius. You need to get over your complex with him! Jesus Christ, Ron! If Sirius left Draco Malfoy alive, then there is a reason for it!" She said, her face turning red. She never yelled like that.

"I don't care!" Ron said. "I don't have to be happy with it!"

Hermione had been settling back down to do her work. "I don't care, Ron! You think I'm happy with this situation?" She yelled. Both of them were getting angry. Since they had started to date, pretty much everything had been a fight between them. Once or twice, Ron had gotten a bit carried away and actually hit Hermione, but he hadn't done that in awhile. Once Harry talked to him, that had ended, it seemed.

In the middle of the battle between the teenagers, a faint knocking could be heard on the door. "Ron? Harry? Hermione? Ginny? Are you in there?" they heard Mrs. Weasley ask.

"Yeah, mom, were in here." Ginny responded. Ron and Hermione were both red in the face from yelling at each other. Harry watched the two with a critical eye, knowing Ron's temper and Hermione's not-it-all problem.

Mrs. Weasley, still covered in flour from head to toe, walked into the room. Wrenching her hands, Mrs. Weasley started to speak. "Uhm. Well, as you know, we have a… a situation." She started. The 4 teens nodded. "Draco… Well, he has to stay, now. He knows where Grimmauld Place is and how to get there… But, we can't let him in on Order things… So, will you, uhm… Will you 4…" here she faltered. "Will you 4 watch over him…? Maybe be friends with. –"

"No! Absolutely not!" Harry and Ron said in unison. The two girls were slightly aghast.

Ginny's mouth hung open. "You cannot be serious." She said. Her mother nodded.

"I am serious, Ginny. He's lost his mother and his father!" she said, trying to explain a little bit, maybe win some compassion for the teenager that sat in the kitchen, talking to Severus Snape.

Harry looked nearly irate. "I lost my parents, too. That doesn't mean that my mortal enemy had to live with me." Mrs. Weasley's gaze hardened.

"Well, you'll be happy to know that he'll be sharing your room. We don't have another cleaned out." She turned on her heal and left.

Ron looked incredibly sympathetic. "Wow. Tough break, mate." He said. Harry threw him a grimace.

"Your mom is evil." He muttered.

Hermione looked at Ginny, and said, "It won't be that bad. Maybe he won't even say anything."

Harry looked hard at her. "He'd better not."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here's Chapter Two, for you, my loyal readers. Well, there's not much of an A/N to put here, so I won't write too much. Also, please take into note, I am very proud of the length of this chapter, since my hands are killing me and my joints are stiff. See, I'm really allergic to bug bites; they get like the size of nickel, and hurt really bad, almost like spider bites. 2 nights ago I got really mad at my mom, and ran out of the house and up a tree… Well, everywhere but my hands and face were covered up due to my hoodie and jeans, so mostly my hands got bit up. 6 bites on one, 8 on the other. So, yeah, I'm kind of doped up on meds right now, so please excuse any bad spelling errors… eek I think Night Lady got most of them, but she's not that reliable sometimes. luffs her Night Lady, but thinks she's a ditz sometimes Night lady is reading over her shoulder, and smacks her Okay, onto chapter 2! **

**Disclaimer: Why do we have to put these on every chapter? If you really need to read that I don't own the damned series of books known as Harry Potter, go to the first chapter!**

As it turned out, Draco Malfoy, recent orphan, didn't say anything at all. It have been over a week since he had been taken to Number 12 Grimmauld Place, and had yet to say a single word. In fact, it spooked Harry a bit. "It's not normal!" Harry declared, once again with Ron and Hermione.

"What's not normal, Harry?" Hermione asked, barely looking up from her homework.

"Him! He's just not normal! I mean, He doesn't speak. He hasn't said one word, derogatory or otherwise!"

Hermione let out a loud sigh, and put her quill down, next to her freshly-finished transfiguration essay about transforming people. "Harry, he's probably in shock. He did loose his parents, you know. You were what? Eighteen months old? Two years old? He's 17, Harry."

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. "I guess. I mean, I can't even remember my parents that well, and he did grow up with his for 17 years."

Ron looked at both of them like they were insane. "Mate, you do remember we hate Malfoy, right?" He asked.

Harry cringed. From the look on Hermione's face, this was going to turn into another fight. "No, Ronald, you hate him!" She said, adding a bit of venom to her voice.

"What about you, Harry, don't you hate him anymore!" Ron said, looking like Hermione had just totally betrayed his trust. Harry tried hard to become invisible, trying not to get involved between his two angry friends.

"I… I think 'hate' is a strong word…" He muttered.

Ron looked scandalized. "Harry! God, what is going on between you two? Hermione, he called you 'mudblood'! Harry, He's a Death Eater!" Ron said, looking like he couldn't believe the two of them.

"'Called', Ron. 'Called', as in past tense. Have you noticed he hasn't said anything lately! Jeez, you are an idiot, Ron. Look to the future, not the past!" Hermione stormed out of the room.

Ron looked at Harry. "What's her problem?" He asked. Harry shook his head, standing up.

"Well, I don't think it's her that has the problem, Ron. She's right." Ron looked like Harry had just declared he had a crush on Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Harry… You… Her… What is going on? Are you guys playing a prank or something?" He asked.

Harry shook his head. "No, Ron, we're not. Face it, Malfoy just isn't Malfoy right now. Okay? Just get over it and leave him alone." Harry said, and walked out of the room, following Hermione's footsteps.

Draco sat on the edge of 'his' bed in the room he had to share with Potty. Living here was unbearable, at the least. The house was dirty and disgusting. Grime was in the corners. Of course, Malfoy Manor had had a fleet of house elves to keep everything immaculate. There was never a speck of dust.

He guessed as far as living with the Golden Trio, it wasn't that bad. The mudblood had tried talking to him a few times, but he had brushed her off. Weasel was more than intolerant. He was a bloody menace. It was amazing that no one had killed him before this. Potter… Well, they boy-who-wouldn't-fucking-die-already was okay, as far as mortal enemies go. He didn't bother him. Actually, he didn't do anything as far as Draco was concerned. He told him where the towels were, and when dinner was. That was all the conversing they had, and it had all been one-sided, anyway.

Draco could hear them arguing about him in the sitting room below. Draco didn't get it. Did they feel sorry for him? It was probably pity. Pity the poor Death Eater who hides in the upstairs bedroom, who just lost his parents. He didn't want their pity. He would rather die. He heard someone coming up the stairs.

Someone was stomping up the stairs. He looked up in time to hear the door open. Hermione Granger, mudblood queen, stood in the door. She walked over to him, determination in her stride. She grabbed his hand. "Come on. You are coming downstairs to fight for yourself. I am tired of doing it for you!"

Draco was slightly taken aback, but didn't struggle. Hermione let him out of the room, and down the stairs. Towards the bottom, they saw Potter. He made a move to question what Hermione was doing, but she just put her hand up to silence him. Draco was confused. What the hell was going on?

Hermione led him to the sitting room. Ron was reading a quidditch book. "Here he is, Ron." She said. "I'm tired of defending him, so why don't you just ask him why he's here and then tell him how much you hate him, and everything else you told us."

Ron stood up. "Hermione, this is ridiculous." He said.

Hermione shook her head, and pushed Draco further into the room. "No, Ronald, it's not. If you can talk trash about him when he's not in the room, and you profess to hate him, then you should be able to talk trash about him when he is in the room." She said, her eyes flashing danger.

Harry looked at Draco. His face was flushed and he was looking out of place, confused. Behind him, the clock ticked away entirely too loudly to be allowed. _Tick, tock. Tick, tock._

"I'm waiting, Ronald." Hermione said.

Ron was blushing red. "I… I can't do it, Hermione." He whispered.

She nodded. "I thought so. You're just another spineless Weasley. You're just like Percy!" She said.

Ron's face went red. "You bitch!" He yelled. "How dare you! I am not like Percy!" he yelled. Hermione snorted, rather unladylike.

"Prove it, Ron!" she yelled.

Ron glared at her. "Damnit, Hermione! You're always doing this! I cannot believe you!" He yelled back. Draco stepped out from between the two fighters, careful not get in their way.

Hermione glared at him. "Face it, Ronald! You're just an idiot! God, you know something! I am breaking up with you. You are an idiot. I can't even hold a decent conversation with you without you saying, 'huh' or 'what' half a dozen times!" She yelled.

Ron looked slightly aghast. "Hermione… Are you breaking up with me?" he asked. Even Draco laughed a little here.

"Yes, Ronald! I just told you I am breaking up with you. Go sod off, Ron!" She yelled. And then she stalked off.

The three boys were left in the sitting room. Soon, Ron walked out of the room. "Well, Malfoy, that was interesting." Harry said. Within a few minutes of the sour company, Harry turned to Malfoy. "If you actually said something, I think you'd be better company. Even something rude, you know." Harry gathered up Hermione's left-behind books, parchment, and quills, and left the room to go return them to her.

Hearing the commotion, and hoping to get 3 particular teenagers into a lot of trouble, Professor Severus Snape walked into the sitting room. Instead of the 3 teens he had hoped to see, Harry, Ron and Hermione, he spotted only Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.

Upon seeing his potions professor, Harry took off like a bottle rocket to find Ron. He wasn't going to hang out with his potions professor, who hated him, and his mortal enemy… Who also hated him.

Draco sat down on one of the chairs and put his head in his hands. "What seems to be the problem, Mr. Malfoy?" Prof. Snape asked.

Draco lifted his head and looked at his teacher like he had suddenly grown a third eye in the middle of his forehead. "Where should I start at?" He asked, his voice rusty from lack of use for the past couple of weeks. "First off, my parents are dead. Secondly, I am living and rooming with the Golden Trio and the entire Weasley family… Minus a couple of members, or course." Draco paused here.

Prof. Snape also added, "Don't forget. Tomorrow night, you will receive your dark mark, and you have another decision to make then."

Draco looked back up at his teacher. "What decision is that, Professor?"

Snape lowered his eyes. "You cannot be a Death Eater and live at the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. You must spy for one or the other, or else the Dark Lord will have you killed. You can act well, Draco. Spy for the Order."

Draco didn't know what to say, other than, "How do I do that?"

Snape seemed to sense his concern. He decided to break his vow of silence and tell Draco the truth. "Draco, why do you think I am here? I am a spy for the Order of the Phoenix. I can teach you to do the same." He replied.

Draco nodded. "Thank you, Professor. For everything… Right now, anyway. I'll do it, though, all the same."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hum… I don't know if we authors are actually allowed to put these things in here anymore… There are just too many rules for me to remember. Anyhow, like I've stated before, my computer is on the fritz yet and me gots these nasty bites (which are going down in size, now)… It's also 12:05 AM, and I am actually quite tired, or my eyes are, anyway. I've been on the computer for some 11 hours as of about 20 minutes ago, so pardon most mistakes. Night Lady's on vacation in Florida right now, so I have no beta other than my spell-check and grammar-check. By the way, this is probably the longest chapter you'll get, so enjoy it. It was 6 pages on Microsoft word, but then I edited it and it only came to 5. Of course, now that I've added the A/N to it, it's probably 6 again, now. Either way, like I said, it's the youngest chapter you'll probably get. Also, now there may be a delay between chapters. I have to start writing the 4th chapter now. Prior to the next chapter, everything was really written, it just needed edited and moved… I think I've talked enough, already.**

**Disclaimer: grrr If you MUST know, Please read the disclaimer for Chapter Two, and then follow the instructions there! It will all show that I do not now, or have I ever, own(ed) **

**Harry Potter.**

**A/N (Part Two): Alright, without further ado, here is the third installment of my story! As of now (when I am writing this) I have yet to think of a fitting title. If you have any good ideas, suggestions, ideas, etc. leave them in your review. As always, suggestions, ideas, and challenges are ALWAYS taken into serious consideration! Also, by the way, this is officially a Dramione fic! Don't like it, leave or get over it and keep reading. Also, is sheepish prepare for Draco-torture-by-voldie, in a non graphic form. Also, I know this is cliché, but here again, it's needed for my story: Harry is abused by his uncle, yaddah, yaddah, yaddah, and Draco's coughDEADcough mother didn't want him and his coughDEADcough father abused him… I know, cliché, but I needed these things, like I needed a good Severus. Also, part of this chapter was written awhile ago, so if it seems like you're reading a good part, and then it goes to a kind of not-so-good part, well… It just means it didn't blend as well as I thought it was.**

The night went quickly for the three friends, Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The fight had been late at night, and thus the three of them slept until well past noon. Soon would bring the beginning of school again, and their Hogwarts letters. 7th year was going to be hard, Hermione knew.

Hermione was the first to rise, at 12:27. She made her bed, and quickly went downstairs. "Morning, Mione" Ginny greeted. Hermione waved in response. She was so tired she didn't notice Draco Malfoy eating a bowl of cold cereal at the kitchen table.

Hermione poured herself a glass of orange juice, added 2 apple slices to it, and made a bowl of cereal. 'Out of Cheerio's, Ronald dearest.' She thought absently. She walked out into the kitchen, bowl of cereal and glass of orange juice, one in each hand. She set them down across the table, still not noticing he was there. Ginny suppressed a giggle.

'Damnit… Forgot a spoon.' Hermione thought. She turned back to the kitchen, got a spoon, and returned to the table. This time she noticed Draco. She nearly dropped her spoon. He looked up, and she said, "Morning, Malfoy." Ginny giggled and left again. Draco looked at her, wondering why in the world she was giggling.

Hermione sat down with her spoon, and began to eat. She reached for the Daily Prophet, and read the headlines. Nothing was out of the ordinary, really. "So…" she started. "You're actually eating. In the kitchen, I mean. Erm, the dining room…" She finished off lamely.

"Brilliant observation, Granger." He stated. Hermione nodded.

Around 2 o'clock, 5 owls flew into the window. They were all regular brown barn owls, Hogwarts owls. "Hogwarts letters are here!" Hermione yelled up the stairs. Soon, all 5 teenagers were looking for their letters, and got the right owls, eventually. Being Hogwarts owls, they didn't really tend to help much, but they didn't hinder the teens' efforts to get the letters.

"Books are going to be bloody expensive this year…" Harry said, noticing the rather long list.

"Yeah." Ginny added.

"There are 8 periods now, plus lunch." Hermione noticed, comparing she and Harry's schedules. Draco hung back. He dreaded going back to school, back to Slytherin house. Of course, probably only about ½ of the total population would be going back to school.

Most of the Slytherins were Death Eaters by now. They would have joined the ranks of their leader, and left school, save for those going back for no other purpose than to spy. Ravenclaws were all very smart. Most of them reasoned that Voldemort would be attempting an attack on the school, possibly more. Hufflepuff house was full of cowards, Draco assumed. They wouldn't be there long, if they returned at all. But Gryffindor… Gryffindors were not so easily intimidated. They would return, Draco knew.

All too soon, the adults started to show up. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley took their book lists. "Don't worry about all of this! We'll get it for you." Mrs. Weasley stated. Each of them handed Mr. and Mrs. Weasley enough to cover their books, and added anything else they wanted onto the list. "Sorry about this, kids, but we can't let you out. McGonagall's orders, you understand." Mr. Weasley said.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were entirely too wrapped up in book-buying and class schedules to look at the teen's letters. Hermione had made Head Girl. Draco was Head Boy, not that he shared that fact, unlike Hermione.

The rest of the night passed in a blur. No one really noticed how fidgety the youngest, er, only Malfoy, was getting. Draco paced the floor in the room he and Harry shared. Would Voldemort know? Would he know that Draco had been sharing a room with the Golden Boy? Could he just sense it? Draco about jumped out of his skin when he heard the door creak open.

"Uh, Malfoy? Professor Snape is waiting for you in the kitchen." Ginny said, noticing suspiciously that Draco seemed to cringe at her words.

Draco instinctively looked at the clock… Oh gods, it was 11:45 PM. He pushed his way out of the room, past the red-headed girl, and down the stairs.

Draco sneaked into the kitchen, barely making a sound. However quiet he was, however, Severus Snape still sense the tow-headed youth's presence in the room. "Are you ready, Draco?" he asked. Draco nodded. It was slight, but visible.

Hermione was just coming into the room to get a glass of pumpkin juice -- chilled, of course -- when the duo apparated to who-knew-where. Hermione took little notice of it, however. Perhaps Snape was taking Draco to buy potions supplies or something. It barely crossed her mind that Mrs. Weasley had already taken care of that.

Later that night, Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Harry sat on Harry's bed, brainstorming ideas on how to kill Malfoy without anyone noticing. Molly, Arthur, and McGonagall sat in the sitting room waiting for the two some to return to Grimmauld Place. It was now well past 11:00 at night. Just as Molly was about to turn in for the night, a loud 'pop' rang through the sitting room, and Severus and Draco appeared. All were taken aback by their sudden appearance, and Draco's over-all appearance.

Draco's robes were tatty and torn, and his face was red and bruising. It looked as though he has just gotten done sobbing, and he was covered in his own blood, cradling his left arm in his right. Severus seemed palled, and looked disgusted. His robes had a bit of dust on them that he quickly brushed away.

"Oh, my, you poor dear." Mrs. Weasley said, taking Draco's shoulder in her hand and leading him into the kitchen. All followed. Draco stood next to the sink as Mrs. Weasley wet a dish clothe and dabbed at a cut above his eyebrow, all the while clicking her tongue. She very tenderly wiped and dabbed the blood from his face, and gently took his arm so she could examine it. Abruptly, as she pulled the robe's sleeve up, she gasped, and hurried from the room.

Draco stood oddly stoic as Severus carefully examined the arm, careful not to allow Mr. Weasley or Professor McGonagall to see the ugly black brand in the center of his forearm. "Easy, Draco. We'll need to call Madam Pomphrey for this, I'm afraid." Snape said, easing the blood from the arm, and around the wound the brand had caused. Draco winced.

Within an hour, he was practically fine again, except for the bruises and some of the cuts. Madam Pomphrey had left them to heal on their own. Draco walked up the stairs, still in his blood soaked Death Eater robes, the hood down. He entered the room, and saw the golden trio, plus weaselette on Potter's bed. Slowly he turned to his dresser, and began to extract a pair of jeans, and a t-shirt. He knew his must be soaked with blood.

"As adorable as I am, Potter, Granger, Weasleys, I have to ask you to not stare at me." He said in a strangled voice. Ginny left with Hermione and Ron, but Harry wouldn't leave.

"What happened to you, Malfoy?" He asked, curiosity in his eyes.

It unnerved Draco. "Nothing, alright... just, nothing." He snapped out, and gingerly took the black robe off; letting it drop to the floor with a 'thud/squish' of heavy, wet fabric falling. Hermione could see the blood staining the hard-wood floor. Draco's jeans looked purple in places where the blood was the worst. That was, well, pretty much everywhere. Draco slipped into the bathroom to change and shower.

"I can't believe it…" Mrs. Weasley said, gingerly setting her tea cup down gingerly with shaking hands. "That was so much blood… Even Poppy didn't know what all to do for the boy." She whispered, almost afraid to admit to what she had seen, heard. "Severus… Why?" She asked, looking up at the greasy-haired professor. Severus looked thoughtful, wondering if he should tell her that it was just part of the… Ceremony, if one could call that horrendous act that. It was more like the courting in of a gang member than a ceremony. He decided against it.

"I don't know, Molly, I just don't know." Seemed to be fitting enough for her, as the four adults turned in for the night.

Harry head a loud, "Thud!" from the bathroom. "Malfoy?" He called, and received no answer. Immediately he went to the adjoined bathroom, and found Draco Malfoy in a pair of black silk boxers, passed out on the floor. For the first time, Harry realized how pitifully thin the young man was, and how frail he was, stained with his own blood.

"Malfoy. Come on, get up!" Harry said, wrenching Draco back into the real world. Draco looked afraid, and Harry saw that he was near tears. Draco immediately rose to his feet, and stood tall and proud. He would NEVER admit that he had just passed out from pain.

"Get. Out." Draco said, glaring at Harry. Harry turned and left. Draco looked into the mirror. He didn't like what he saw. Draco's gorgeous white-blonde hair was tinted red from blood, and he had bruises on his face. His ribs stuck out visibly, his face was gaunt. This had to stop. He couldn't allow others to go through this. Sure, he was selfish Slytherin, but this was more than even he could handle. Draco shook his head feebly and started a shower.

Harry sat on his bed. He couldn't help but noticed long the finger-shaped bruises on Draco's neck, and the huge one that covered his side, and probably his hip, as well. Malfoy was awfully thin. Didn't he eat anything? Harry shook his head, deciding to let Malfoy make the choice of what to do with his life - and his body. But for the first time in Harry's short life, he really felt sorry for the youngest, er, only, Malfoy. Draco Malfoy might be a death eater, but Harry could tell that something was seriously going wrong.

The next… Afternoon, Hermione was sent to wake up Draco. "Get up, Malfoy. Up!" Hermione said, shaking Draco's shoulder. Everyone else had already gotten up, and Severus had said to wake him, since it was well past noon. Draco groaned, and slapped at Hermione's hand.

"No... Just a bit longer!" He said, from under his covers. It came out as more like, "Mo...Hus a bee wonga!"

Just at that moment, Snape came in. "Draco, you must get up. You have to eat something." The boy only groaned and nestled further into the mattress. Hermione shrugged, as though to say, "Well, what can you do?" She went to the other side of the room and sat on Harry's bed.

"Draco, wake up now." Snape said, lightly touching the boy's side.

Draco shot up like lightening. "Huh? What? Oh." He said, taking a small vile from Severus. The liquid inside was amber in color, and runny, like water. Draco tilted his head back, and swallowed it all. Hermione, even from the other side of the room, noticed the grimace on the tow-headed teen's face, and realized that he and Severus had done this before... What was wrong with Malfoy? Had Voldemort done this before or something?

Severus left and Hermione asked his if he had ever been hurt by Voldemort before. He shook his head. "No… Not the Dark Lord…" He said, his eyes saying that he still knew what pain was like.

Hermione, being a book-worm, thought that she knew who had hurt him before. "Draco, did your father ever hurt you?" she asked bluntly.

Draco looked shocked, but also a little bit afraid "No! He wouldn't... He never... I mean... Just no! Okay? My father loves, er, loved, me!" Draco said, pulling a shirt over his head, and pulling his jeans on.

Hermione shook her head. "Yeah, sure, whatever. But you're wrong. I can tell that you're lying. He did hurt you."

Draco sat on his bed, and rested his head in his hands. He began to cry and Hermione walked over to him. Gingerly, she sat down on the side of the bed, and put her hand on his shoulder. He jerked away. Hermione withdrew her hand from his shoulder.

"Get out!" He yelled, in sort of a strangled manner. Hermione looked at him. "You know, if you ever need-" she began, but he cut her off when he barked, "Get out!" again.

She walked down the stairway, and into the hall, then the kitchen. She grabbed a slice of cold toast off of the stack left over from breakfast, and ate in silence at her place at the table. Then she had a half a glass of water, and returned to the room Draco and Harry shared. "Malfoy, tell me. Jesus, I understand!" Hermione said, as soon as she entered the room.

"How could you?" Draco asked, his doubt showing on his face.

"Because Harry told me about it…" Hermione said, realizing about ½ way through just how ridicules her statement must sound.

"Fine! You want to know so badly! Then I'll tell you! He turned me into a fucking SERVANT! I'm a MALFOY! I shouldn't have to serve anyone, let alone the Dark Lord. I don't want to be his servant. If I screw up just one tiny bit, He'll torture me until I'm sure I would rather die, but I never will!" He said, tears starting the fall from his eyes again.

Ginny stepped into the room. She saw the tow-headed teen, his body racked in sobs. Hurriedly she went to the bathroom and filled a cheap plastic cup, one of the one's Mrs. Weasley insisted they use to rinse after they brushed their teeth, with water. She walked over to Malfoy, and handed him the cup. "Here, Draco. Have a drink... Maybe it will help." He took the cheap red cup, and swallowed a bit of water, trying to regain his composure, and crying harder because he couldn't. Not yet, anyway.

Hermione sat on the bed next to the Slytherin prince, and hugged him. Ginny did the same on his other side, both girls mothering the teen, although he was older than both of them. Shamelessly, he cried into Hermione's shoulder.

Ron looked into the room, and then quickly left, a disgusted look on his face. Why had Hermione left him for…? And his own sister! Ginny was acting like that Death Eater was some little puppy she had picked up off the streets.

"Draco, calm down." Hermione whispered.

Within a few moments Draco's sobbing eased to a labored breathing. He pulled away. "I'm sorry about that... I just... I don't know what's happening to me. The spells are coming off, and-" he tried to lie, lamely. Both Ginny and Hermione saw through his feeble lies. There were no spells.

"You're finally accepting the fact that your family is far from perfect." Hermione suggested to him. He nodded jerkily, and walked over to his dresser, pulled out an old, faded, dark grey (used to be black) T-shirt that had to be 4 sizes too small, and wiped his eyes.

Hermione couldn't help but notice how badly the 17 year old's hands shook. He was fighting for self control, and loosing the battle miserably. Hermione walked over to him, and took the shirt out of his hands. "Listen," She said, as she started to dab at the tears running down his pale, angular cheeks, "If you ever need to talk to anyone, talk to Harry. He knows what it's like to live in Hell." She said, handing him back the shirt, and walking out of the room. Ginny gave him a quick hug and followed her older mentor.

Draco stood dumbfounded over what had just happened. God, Hermione and Ginny were being forgiving! What did he do to deserve that? Nothing. He thought back to every single time he had called her a mudblood, or Ginny 'weaselette', and whatever other insult he could fire at the pair of them. Hermione had always been so angry! And now... Now she had been like a loving mother... Something he had only dreamt about it.

Narcissa had hardly been loving. He remembered when he was eight and he had tripped on the hallway rug. His mother had muttered, "Jesus, Draco! You call yourself a Malfoy! I knew you were a mistake from the moment you were conceived! Clumsy as hell, clumsy as hell…"

Draco put away the worm shirt and sighed. He was tired. But dinner was calling and he was hungry. A lot of time had passed between he and the girls. He was starving, in fact. Regaining most of his composure, Draco cast a calming spell on himself and descended for the dining room.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Well, it's time for Chapter Four! Never thought I would get this far! Seriously, now, though. I have no idea what is in store for this chapter. Also, I have got to totally share this with all of my readers: I AM GOING TO BE AN AUNT AGAIN! Okay, I know. Excessive punctuation and caps is annoying, but this is so huge! My brother just got divorced from his first wife, and she took their 2 year old son, "Joe", with her out to Oklahoma (my bro lives in North Carolina). Well, My brother and his long-time friend (a girl by the way, obviously)… have been, well, doing the dirty deed, and she got preg! Now, unfortunately, they are not married. coughyetcough. "Amelia", his… lover (?), already has an 8 year old son. We'll call him, "Billy". He's such an awesome little kid, and he's been calling my bro Daddy for a long time. Now, "Amelia" claims that her son, "Billy" isn't my brother's kid, but gosh, they look A LOT alike… So, yeah… Everyone's hoping for a little girl! Best wishes, and cross your fingers, toes, and eyes for the next nine months! Everyone wish "Amelia", my bro, "Billy", and me: Foxy, the best of luck! "Amelia" is my friend too, so I hope she gets her beautiful baby girl. We'll christen the baby "The Bump" for right now, until "Amelia" tells us what she's going to name her baby, and what gender it will be!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own a thing! is way too happy right now because I'm typing this right after I was told about The Bump Everything is borrowed courtesy of the great, wonderful JK Rowling.**

**A/N (Part 2): My bug bites went away, finally, but there are 2 nasty scars on the back of my hand. runs out to buy a teddy for The Bump and some Scar-B-Gone**

Draco groaned as he woke up. The sunlight from the window was in his eyes. He could already tell that this was going to be a long day. Tomorrow they would all return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for their seventh year. It was going to be hell, Draco was sure. He was Head Boy, of course, but the mudblood, however nice she had been to him a couple weeks ago, was still an insufferable know-it-all, and she was Head Girl. He wasn't looking forward to spending his last school year locked into living in the same tower as her.

As it was now, Hermione Granger was bossing everyone around, telling them how to pack, what to pack, and when to pack. This, of course, was when she wasn't trying to convince everyone that they should be studying their new books.

Draco glanced over at his alarm clock. He hadn't set it the night before, and as such, had no idea what time in the morning it was. The clock read that it was about noon. He groaned again. That bloody woman would be coming up the stairs to rouse him out of bed. He rolled over and put his pillow over his head. All too soon, he heard Hermione pounding on the door.

"Malfoy! Get up! It's noon! You missed breakfast, you know. Besides, have you packed yet?" she yelled through the door. He didn't answer. Instead, he pulled his pillow farther over his head and tried to block her out. "Malfoy, are you even awake?" He heard her yell. He heard the door latch clicking. Looked doors weren't allowed here.

"You're not even out of bed yet, Malfoy! Come on!" she griped, and pulled his pillow away. He pulled it back and threw it at her.

"Get out, Granger."

Hermione got very indignant. "Fine! I'll just get professor Snape to get you up!" She left the room. Draco got up and sat on the edge of the bed in his flannel pajama bottoms. He heard two sets of people start to ascend the stairs. "Professor, he won't get up, and as you know, it's well past noon! He should be up and dressed already." Draco heard the mudblood say.

"Ms. Granger, I can assure you, he can sleep if he wishes. Tomorrow you all go back to school, and will need your rest. Not all people want to get up at the crack of dawn to study new schoolbooks, as you do." Prof. Snape said, a bit of venom in his voice. Draco laughed a little. The pair was at the landing, right in front of the room. "Ms. Granger, please stay here." Snape said.

Snape entered the room. "You would do well to cover your arm, Mr. Malfoy." He said, noticing that the black brand, a skull eating a snake, was clearly visible. Draco groaned. He walked over to the armoire and pulled out a long-sleeve T-shirt. Pulling the black garment on, he heard Snape begin to speak again. "You must remember to do so, now. Minerva will allow your return, but if others report that you are a Death-Eater, she will be forced to turn you over to Azkaban, and there you will do no-one any good." He said.

Draco nodded. "I know this, Professor Snape. What happens when I am called during school? During classes?" Snape shrugged.

"Well, it is possible that you could ask for a bathroom pass and simply cut class. Or you could pretend illness and leave." He suggested. Draco nodded while he pulled on a pair of baggy black jeans. His potions professor looked at him. "Really now, if everything you own black?" he asked.

Smirking, Draco responded by saying, "Of course not. My school shirts are white and my ties are green and silver."

Professor Snape glared at the teen. "That is not what I meant, and you know it."

Draco glared back, not backing down. "What concern of yours is it, professor, what I wear and what color it is? You would do well to concern yourself with your own well being."

"Mr. Malfoy, do not insult me. I am your professor, after all." Snape responded.

Draco shrugged. "Of course you are, but this is not school. I do not have to listen to you right now." He said.

Professor Snape looked at the youth. Despite his young age – 17 – he was rather strong minded. A true Slytherin, some would call him, but the professor knew that the kind of attitude, wisdom, and strong will that Draco Malfoy possessed came only from age, or great personal pain. His sarcasm was only a cover.

"Mr. Malfoy, expect to be up with the sun in the morning. You and Hermione will be traveling to Hogwarts before the train, so that Headmistress McGonagall can brief you on your duties, and on the prefects under your control. She will also give you the password to your tower." Snape said, and left.

The next morning, Draco awoke at 4:30 AM when his alarm went off. He groaned, and tried to hit the snooze button. Unfortunately, he missed and knocked the battery powered clock of the night stand. It skidded across the hardwood floor, and hit the wall. It stopped beeping. Draco groaned again, as he got up to go get the annoying muggle device. He shivered as his bare feet hit the cold floor.

As he walked over to go get the clock, he heard someone coming up the stairs. "Draco," Hermione said, "Breakfast is almost done. Get a shower, get packed, already." she added, noticing the books, robes, and wand laying carelessly on the floor, next to the trunk bearing the Hogwarts and Slytherin seals, as well as the initials DM and the words, "7th year" and "Head Boy's Room, Head's Tower, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry"

Draco glared at her. Was Granger always such a chipper person in the morning? "Well," she said, when she noticed he was just standing there, a broken clock in his hand. "Are you going to get around, or not?" she asked.

"Granger, you may have noticed, but I cannot get a shower and get dressed with you standing in the doorway."

"Oh, that's right." She muttered, her face blushing to a deep red color. She turned around and started to go down the stairs. Draco breathed a sigh that she was finally gone and he could go back to sleep… Once he set the clock again, mind you. Suddenly, he heard steps again.

Granger's mop of brown curls popped into the room again. "By the way, did you know your clock is broken?" she asked. He glared down at the thing in his hand. True to her word, the clock was broken.

The little pewter cobra that had once resided on the top, it's head raised, ready to strike, was now headless. The face of the clock was cracked, and it had stopped working. The digital readout screen was bare. He threw the thing onto the floor with a muttered, "Darn it…"

Draco finally descended the stairs a half an hour later, after his 10 minute shower and his 20 minutes to pack (most of which had consisted of trying to find that little book that the Muggle Studies teacher had assigned. Being a muggle book, The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy & Other Stories, it was only about 5x8 inches, and less than an inch thick, even with it's thick hard covers. It had slid under his bed, and he had had to dig around to find it.).

Hermione looked up. "Morning, Draco. Bacon?" she asked, offering a plate with greasy, brown strips of meat on it to him. Draco wrinkled his nose.

"Is that even edible?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, and put 3 of the little slices on her plate, which was already filled with some fried potato mix (potato, bell pepper and onion) as well as some scrambled eggs. 2 slices of toast dripping with butter lay on the edge of her plate. Being muggle food, Hermione would gladly eat it.

Draco walked into the kitchen to find something remotely looking like the food he was used to. Or at least some cereal… that would work for him. Cold cheerios and milk would make a fine breakfast for him, as long as he didn't have to eat that grease-laden muggle food. Draco stopped in the middle of the kitchen. He was suddenly painfully aware that he had no idea where to find cereal, let alone a bowl.

"There's no cereal left!" He heard Hermione call through the doorway.

Draco growled in frustration. "Why not?" he called back out.

"Because I finished it awhile ago!" she called back.

This time her voice was slightly muffled. Draco could only imagine that she had been speaking with food in her mouth. As he walked back out, he was acutely aware that he had been right. Hermione was wiping up some half-chewed egg from the table, where it had probably spewed out when she had answered him.

Hermione looked up and blushed, but quickly looked back down. She had finished cleaning, now, and went back to her book. It was that darned muggle book. She had to memorize it, he guessed.

All too soon, 8:00 AM showed up. Draco lugged his trunk downstairs, along with Hermione. Arthur Weasley had borrowed a company car, being the new Minister of Magic had previously worked in his office. Dilbert Dungweedle, he was named.

The two teens threw their trunks of school supplies into the car trunk. Then they piled into the back seat. Mrs. Weasley was riding in the front seat with her husband. Luckily enough for Hermione and Draco, the car was magical and it expanded on the inside. So, when they started to move, the two of them sat about 12 feet apart, as wide as the car.

Even though they had called a truce of sorts, and Hermione had comforted him after The Night Of, Draco still didn't want to be friends with her. Or maybe he did, and just didn't want to admit it. He didn't know. He just didn't know. And he was confused… So darned confused he just didn't know what to think about Hermione Jane Granger anymore. He didn't even know when he had learned that her middle name was Jane.

The entire ride to Hogwarts was quiet. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had attempted to make small talk with Draco. He hadn't responded. Then they had tried to get the two ornery teens to play the Alphabet Game. Draco hadn't understood the entire concept about looking for objects that began with each letter of the alphabet in order.

Mrs. Weasley had tried to start the game with, "A! Apple Tree! Hermione, can you find anything with a b?" she had asked, with false enthusiasm. As soon as they passed a farm, Mrs. Weasley had shouted out, "B! I found a B! A Barn!" Draco had rolled his eyes and tried to keep from groaning out his boredom and the insanity that was sure to result if Mrs. Weasley didn't stop. He did groan as soon as she yelled, "C! I found C, too! Cows!" Before they even reached 'E', however, the game ended. Mrs. Weasley was the only one playing.

When they reached Hogwarts, Draco was relieved. Judging from the look on Hermione's face, however, he wasn't the only one. Headmistress McGonagall stood waiting in front of the school to great the new Heads of House. 2 house elves waited to take their trunks, too. Hermione frowned, but said nothing. "Welcome, Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger." She greeted in her brisk manner. "Let me show you to your tower. We will talk there."

The Heads' Tower was at the southernmost corner of the castle. It was the smallest tower, but it was still large enough to fit another house. At the entrance a portrait of an elegant looking woman in a frosty blue gown with pale, flawless skin and sleek black hair piled into an up-twist greeted them. In her hair was seated a small tiara of diamonds, and she sported elbow length white gloves. "Hello, children. Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger, I presume? I am Maihre-Aislin Jeannette Knowles. Password, please." She said, motioning with her hand. "Cerulean." The headmistress provided. "Correct, Headmistress McGonagall." She replied, and swung her silver guilt frame forward.

Hermione gasped as she stepped into the common room. A dark blue plush carpet covered the floors, with the exception of the small kitchenette, which had a hardwood floor. A large fireplace, large enough to floo from, was crackling away. Large, overstuffed furniture in cappuccino velvet complimented the room, and Hermione saw a spiral staircase, as well. It's elegant wrought iron wrapped it's way upwards, but Hermione was also baffled to see that it went down, too?

"Professor, aren't we on the first floor?" she asked. The Headmistress laughed a little.

"No, certainly not. Downstairs is Draco's dormitory. Upstairs, on the next floor is the Head of House Private Library, and then on the top floor is your dormitory. Now, each of you have your own bathroom, but you will have to share the kitchenette. If you decide to work early, or late, and happen to miss meals due to your hard work, you can get food there. It is similar to muggle room service. A menu is listed on cardboard. It lays on the countertop. Now, what you want, you merely touch and say, 'Ordo Victus'. It is linked to the kitchens downstairs."

Draco looked around the room. It was certainly lavish enough, and it had a subtle elegance to it, although nothing seemed to match anything else. He zoned out whatever it was that Professor McGonagall had to say, just thinking about what could happen in this tower… He and Blaise Zabini were planning on christening it with a bottle or ten of firewhiskey, but he wasn't sure how drunk they could get with the mudblood prude in the same tower.

All too soon, the headmistress had disappeared. "Well," Hermione said, "I am going to my room, and perhaps I'll check out the library while I am up there." She finished, and took off.

Draco was left alone, and he went to the stairs, descending into his dorm. As he was used to, it was in the dungeons. He wondered if all Head Boys stayed in the dungeons, or if they moved the library or common room down here other years. All thoughts left his mind as he stared at the lavish room before him.

The floor was a dark forest green carpet, and on the opposite wall was a tall four-poster bed of ebony wood. It was polished to a deep finish, and the bedding was dark green. His trunk lay at the foot of his bed, but it was obsolete, he noticed, because there was a matching armoire to his bed. Next to the armoire there were ebony closet doors. The handles on the armoire and closet were brushed satin-finish sterling silver. Another door to the left led him, Draco assumed, to his bathroom. The doors, French style, matched his other furnishings.

He opened the door and was immediately greeted with white marble. White marble made up the floor, and the counter and sinks. The bathtub, the same size as in the prefect's bath, was not only sunken into the floor, but it was made of black marble. Silver made up all of the taps on the bath and sink. Draco was relieved to see a shower in the corner, as well.

Slowly, he walked around and touched everything. This was going to be a great year, he knew. His own dorm room, and finally, his own bath.

On the 4th floor, similar thoughts ran through the head of Hermione Granger. Her room was lavish. She had a deep, plush red wine colored carpet, and a beautiful mahogany bed. Over the bed was a sheer princess canopy of wine colored material. Her dresser and closet doors matched, and her bedspread was of deep wine velvet. All of the knobs were gold, and even her floor length mirror was framed in gold.

Her bathroom door led her into a small, but tidy room. It had all of the essentials, and included a jet bath. Though not of marble like Draco's bath was, Hermione still liked hers. It was just simple white tile, and she liked it just fine.

She had been so excited to see her room that she had hardly even ventured to the library. She descended to the floor below, and was immediately excited. It was small, but is held many old tomes, and some muggle books, as well. 2 desks, both of mahogany with matching chairs, were each under one of the two windows. Hermione immediately claimed the one nearest the older section of books, and that was that.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Alright, everyone, welcome to chapter 5 of Untitled. Yep, that's the official name for this story. You may have noticed a couple chapters ago that I shortened it from "Untitled Until I Think of One" to just plain old "Untitled", but now I have decided that Untitled will be the official name of this story. I was batting around 2 ideas for a title, well, 3 if you count Untitled. Option 1 was the name that I had originally started this fic with, well over a year and a half ago when I started pounding out chapter one in a different form (if you email me, I can provide you with the uncut primitive version). That title was Musings of a Malfoy. The other title idea I was batting about was Granger's Follies, but neither one seemed to fit the fic, at least not yet. Mind you, I have not even begun to write chapter 5.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am just a poor high school student trying desperately to get her license to drive. Don't sue me. All you will get is my tuition bill, my poor old car which won't run, even though there is nothing wrong with it (you can even ask the mechanics. They can't find anything wrong, either. It's just refusing to run.), and my angry parents, which if they walk back the hallway will be even angrier because I am writing this at 3:56 AM. Mind you, I was supposed to be asleep 6 hours ago. Eek on my part.**

School had been in session for more than 2 weeks, and Hermione and Draco had been paired up for every class they had together and every project, too. They had done the work, and had passed the projects. Little did they know that soon they would get a project that would force the two of them to actually get to know each other.

Professor McGonagall laughed to herself as she filled in Professor Kent, the muggle studies professor, as to what she wanted him to do. Now, the headmistress rarely intervened, but she thought this was necessary. After all, there was that prophecy to think about…

"Mahlon, I want you to assign a class project. Now, I know that you have all of the 7th years for Advanced Muggle Studies and Muggle Studies, so, I have drawn up a little plan. Even though You-Know-Who is not a current threat, we still need to further house unity." She began.

"What would you like for my classes to do, Headmistress?"

"Professor Kent, I have designed a project. The students will be separated into pairs. Each pair will consist of 2 students from different houses. Now, this gadget," she said, pulling out a small cup not unlike the Goblet of Fire, only far less immense, "Will pick 2 compatible students from different houses. Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy will be paired up." She said. Mahlon Kent nodded, and McGonagall continued.

"Now, what I need for you to do is announce this project to your classes. I will draw up the pairs according to what I think is best, house wise." She said, and dismissed the young muggle-born professor.

A dark shadow came out from a corner of the office where he had been standing, unseen. "Minerva, do you really think that this is wise?" he asked.

Without looking over her shoulder, she said, "Yes, Severus, I do. You know the prophecy. However, if You-Know-Who is still reigning, it will never come to be, and it must, to defeat him." She said this as she used her wand to conjure a slip of paper with every 7th year student's name one it. Except, of course, Draco and Hermione; they were already paired.

The small class called Advanced Muggle Studies shifted uncomfortably. Professor Mahlon Kent had just announced that they would be doing a new project, and since half of them were muggle born, or had muggle parents, and half of them were pureblood, that this project would work out for the best.

"Now, each of you has been paired with someone from a different house and magical background. I will call out the names, and you will each go to sit with your partner. After we have all paired up, I will explain the purpose of this project and what I want done." Professor Kent said.

He started to call out pairs, "Millicent Bulstrode (Slytherin) and Terry Boot (Ravenclaw); Dean Thomas (Gryffindor); Hannah Abbot (Hufflepuff) and Sally-Anne Perks (Ravenclaw); Blaise Zabini (Slytherin) and Lisa Turpin (Ravenclaw); and lastly," he said, smiling at the two remaining students, "Hermione Granger (Gryffindor) and Draco Malfoy (Slytherin)."

Hermione stared at her professor. Surely he was kidding? Absently she felt eyes on her back, and turned to see Malfoy looking just as stricken as she. They had avoided each other like the plague since The Night Of when he had cried unabashedly into her shoulder. Hermione moved and seated herself at the desk they would share.

"Now," Professor Kent said, magically passing out guide sheets. "Each of you is to interview your partner, using the questions I have given you, and your own curiosity. Since you have been paired with someone of a different magical background, and this is Muggle Studies, I want to hear about their muggle upbringing versus your own magical one. Now then, I am releasing you early to go and meet in a private place to begin your project. You may choose to stay here, but I think it would be more comfortable for you if you chose your own interviewing place. Also, please read the handouts!" he said, dismissing the class.

Hermione and Draco headed back to their tower. Hermione glanced at her list. "Jeez, what kind of bloody questions are these: Favorite color, first favorite toy? This is so dumb." She said, and continued to rattle on.

Draco absently looked at the list… 'Short synopsis of the diversity between muggle and magical upbringings'? He couldn't do this. This was too much. He was snapped out of his thoughts when they reached the portrait of Maihre-Aislin Jeannette Knowles. "Password, please, dears." She said, examining her diamond tiara. "That horrible Fat Lady wanted to wear my tiara… Oh, dears, I think she's bent it!" she said. "Cerulean," Hermione said. The lady nodded, and swung her fancy frame forward.

As soon as they entered the room, Hermione rounded on Draco. "Malfoy, what's your favorite color?" she asked. He stared at her, and then started for the stairs. "Malfoy, get back here! This project is due in 4 days!" she yelled. He shrugged, and descended the stairs. Hermione followed.

"Draco Malfoy, I want to get this project done now so I can spend as little time with you as possible. You're insane! I mean, first you…" she started to mention The Night Of, and stopped. "Let's just get this stupid project done, alright?" she said.

"What were you going to say, Granger?"

"When?" she responded.

Malfoy stared at her. "Before you said you just wanted to finish." He said.

Hermione blushed furiously. "I, nothing…"

Draco screwed his face up. "Granger, tell me."

She shook her head. "No way."

Draco growled in his frustration. "Damnit, you bloody filthy mudblood!" he yelled. Hermione was taken aback. This came out of no where.

"I am _not_ filthy! Stop calling me a mudblood!" she yelled.

"No! You are. You're just a filthy mudblood who doesn't know how to just fudge a dumb project like this one!"

"I will not fudge homework!" she responded. "I will not fudge homework just because you don't want to tell me your favorite color or draw up a synopsis of your childhood as a wizard!" she yelled.

"Did you ever think maybe I don't want to share my childhood with you?" he yelled, throwing a book at her. Hermione dodged it.

"What's the big deal? It's not like he asked for details! I mean, you are such an arrogant, egotistical, frigid, hard-assed son of a bitch that can't think of anyone but himself! Did you ever stop to think that maybe your grade, as well as mine, rides on this damned project! Just because you don't care about your grade doesn't mean you can sabotage mine! I refuse to let that –"

Hermione stopped short. She had to. She couldn't very well speak with a pair of Slytherin lips on hers. Hermione pushed him away.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" she yelled, flushed with embarrassment.

"Granger, you're a filthy mudblood, but did anyone ever tell you that you're gorgeous?" he asked. Hermione blushed again and slapped him.

"You can't just do that to make me bloody shut up, Malfoy! You egotistical, frigid asshole!" she yelled, and started to climb the stairs. Calling up after her, she heard Malfoy shout, "I'm not an asshole!"

Hermione stomped up to her room before remembering what he had said. He had said she was beautiful! No, he had said she was gorgeous… What in the world did that mean? She said down on the edge of her bed. Boy was she confused. He acted like he hated her, and had avoided her after she had comforted him, and now he had kissed her. Hermione Granger was in well over her head, and for once, she didn't know what to do.

Hermione slipped into her bathroom, and drew a hot bath of chamomile bubbles. When the tub was so full she thought she would slip underwater if she sat in it, Hermione stopped the tap. Slipping her clothing off, and pulling out a towel, Hermione sank into the bath. The tiny ruby set into a golden bar shimmered under the water from her navel. Absently she played with it, and thought.

In the bottom of the tower in his dungeon dormitory, Draco Malfoy was also thinking. He had… Oh, god. What would happen when the school found out? He felt like he had been punched in the stomach. First this stupid project that would delve into his personal self (something he didn't even know about), and now he had kissed the mudblood Gryffindor Queen.

Draco sat on the edge of his bed. He couldn't believe what he had done. He couldn't believe what he had said! Oh, god. What would happen when the Dark Lord found out? Draco ran his fingers over the ugly black brand on his arm. Suddenly, it burned intensely, and Draco ran up to the common room.

Grabbing a handful of Floo Powder (that was supposed to be used for traveling to other common rooms exclusively), Draco threw it into the fire, turning it into green flames, and yelled, "Shrieking Shack!" loudly.

Hermione, upstairs, thinking, playing with the stud in her abdomen, and listening to Mozart that she conjured, did not even hear the youth leave. Nor did she hear him return for his black robes and mask, then return to the Shrieking Shack to apparate to the Dark Lord's hideout.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: By the way, I just figured out that when I upload my chapters, the little star things (you know, when you press shift+8) aren't showing up. So, chances are, if you see a phrase in one of my author's notes, and it doesn't make sense, it was supposed to be in stars. From now on, I'll try putting them in brackets. Sigh Anyway, I got some good reviews for the last chapter. It was a lot of fun to write. Well, maybe not fun, but I got some of my aggression out. It was fun for me to re-read it, though. Also, I am now working chapter-by-chapter for 2 reasons: 1. I am in uncharted waters here. I have never written anything like this before. And, 2, I don't have any more chapters written. This chapter here took so long to write because it's a major chapter in this story. Here you learn about the prophecy. Also, my Microsoft Word crashed and I haven't really been home for awhile. I'm basically on the go 24/7 right now. It's like I come home to shower and get a fresh change of clothes. So, sorry for this VERY late chapter.**

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: Okay, this really shouldn't be that big of a deal, but winces some of you may find it inappropriate for the unmarried resident medi-witch of Hogwarts to be entertaining the also unmarried potions master during the wee hours of the morning… It is NOT graphic, but suggested.**

**Disclaimer: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned anything related to Harry Potter. Actually, I take that back. I bought a hermit crab a bit ago, and his name is Crookshanks. So, I own my crab, but nothing else!**

The next morning was a Saturday. To be precise, it was a long weekend. The project was due by Tuesday's class, and Hermione still wasn't sure how in the world she was going to get Malfoy to go along with it. After all, he was just being so darned surly!

Hermione sighed deeply, and let out a groan when she saw the time on the clock. 2:15 AM. That was the fourth time she had woken up since she went to bed, and Hermione was desperately tired. In addition to that blasted and bloody Advanced Muggle Studies project, she also had essays for Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions. She was going to need to get her sleep if she was going to finish them.

Absently, Hermione cuddled under the burgundy bedspread and comforter. Her bed was so warm, but at the top of the tower, her room could be fairly cold. She pulled a velvet covered pillow close to herself, and put her back against the surprisingly warm wall. Burying her head into her pillow, Hermione tried to get back to sleep.

In his dungeon dorm room, nothing was out of the ordinary, per say. Everything was in it's place, save for a book entitled "Muggle Magic", which lay open next to the wall. The only thing that was strange about the oddly chilly green room was that its occupant was conspicuously absent. This was strange, because it was nearly 2:30 in the morning.

The occupant of this dorm room, Draco Malfoy, had been called away on official business for the Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort. This had been earlier in the night, nearly midnight, and still the blonde youth was not back. Of course, he had been late, and heaven only knew what would happen if he was late.

A half hour later, Hermione Granger woke up again. "Damnit," she sighed, and resigned herself to the fact that she would not be getting any sleep. Slipping her burgundy flannel robe on, but leaving it open in the front, revealing her white silky night dress underneath, Hermione padded down to the common room to get herself a cup of tea. Maybe some tea and a good book would help her to feel tired?

When she reached the library, Hermione grabbed a book that had captivated her attention earlier. A fairly new release, it was entitled, "Prophesies to Defeat You-Know-Who". Shrugging, she picked it up off of her desk. Perhaps it would help Harry?

As she started to descend the stairs, she heard a loud crackling in the fireplace, and then a thump. The thump was followed by a moan, or more precisely, a groan. Her curiosity was peaked. She walked down the stairs a little faster.

In front of the fireplace lay a black… Thing. As she got closer, she noticed that it was a figure. The figure's head lifted, and some shaggy white-blonde hair was revealed where the hood fell. "Oh, my god!" Hermione cried. Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Prince and sole heir to the Malfoy family fortune, lay passed out on the common room carpet.

"Malfoy? Draco? Wake up!" she said. He didn't move. "Oh, god." Hermione reiterated. She quickly lay her book down on the kitchenette table and ran for the hospital wing. There was no sense in ruining a book, even if this was an emergency. As she ran, Hermione heard several portraits call out about being running around after hours. She brushed them all off, and breathed a sigh of relief when she reached the hospital wing, on the other side of the castle entirely.

As she went to turn the door knob into the wing, Hermione found the door locked. Hermione jiggled the knob. In her haste to get Madam Pomphrey, she completely forgot her wand in her room. "Madam Pomphrey! Madam, open the door! It's an emergency!" she yelled. To her relief, she heard the door unlock.

"Miss Granger, what on earth are you doing here at this hour of the morning? It's nearly 2:45!" the medi-witch said, patting her disheveled hair back into place. Hermione eagerly began to speak.

"Draco! He's passed out on the common room floo—" she began, but noticed a shadow in the witch's room. A tall, greasy-haired shadow that happened to be putting his shirt back on… Hermione felt like she was going to gag. Following the student's gaze, the older witch coughed, blushed, and asked the Head Girl to lead her to their tower.

By the time that the two reached the tower (Professor Snape followed behind after them), Draco was up and had moved down into his form, completely unaware of what had happened just minutes before.

Draco casually picked up the book lying on his floor, groaning as the room spun. He had a horrible headache, and watching the room spinning only made it worse. He lay it down on top of the others on his little bookshelf, and then lay down on his bed. No good; laying down just made him queasier. He went into the bathroom, and knelt by the toilet, just incase.

Madam Pomphrey and Hermione raced into the common room, and then down into Draco's dorm room. They heard a low moan from the bathroom, and the teachers raced in. "Dear, dear." Madam Pomphrey said, as she touched the boy's forehead. He was burning up. "Severus!" she barked. "He needs to go to the hospital wing. He's got a hellacious fever."

Snape nodded, and quickly helped the teen to his feet. Draco, quite frankly, looked horrible. He was sweating badly, and his eyes were glassy. As she watched, she saw him start to quake, like he had the night Sirius had first brought him into her life permanently. "Ms. Granger, please stay here. You may check on him in the morning." Madam Pomphrey said. Hermione nodded.

"Will he be alright?" She asked.

Professor Snape looked to Madam Pomphrey. "I think he will, don't you agree, Poppy?" he said.

Madam Pomphrey nodded her frazzled head. "Of course he'll be fine, Severus! And, Ms. Granger, you may visit him in the morning if you are so inclined to do so." She said. Hermione nodded, and walked with them up the stairs.

"No!" Draco suddenly yelled. Severus appraised the weak-looking teen.

"Pardon me, Mr. Malfoy?" he said.

"No! Don't let her… She just wants to find out…" he started. "Just don't let her." He said.

They took Draco to the hospital wing, and Hermione went back up into her dorm. She never had gotten her cup of tea, and since it was about 5:00 AM, Hermione knew there was no chance of her getting any sleep. She absently began to draw herself a bath. If she was ever upset, that's what she did: get a bath. Needless to say, she was a very clean person. She was always upset or worried, or even stressed out. Sometimes she was all three. Sometimes like now.

Hermione went to turn on the tap that produced lilac scented bubbles, the big kind, not the little ones like she got from the chamomile tap, and growled in frustration when she found that her favorite tap was out of bubbles. That just ruined her bath. She turned the water off and pulled the plug.

Sighing, she got up and went into her room. She pulled out a pair of dark blue jeans and a t-shirt. Then she went back into the bathroom and ran a shower. After she showered, Hermione dressed and went into the kitchenette.

Inside the menu there wasn't much. Finally, Hermione settled on a taco salad. She ordered, and within seconds, it appeared on the table. Hermione sat down, and began to eat. Suddenly, she spied her book from earlier. She picked it up and began to read the table of contents, hoping something would catch her attention.

_The Prophecy of The Two Leopards_… She read. Hermione shrugged and flipped to the page. A little prophecy caught her attention in the center of the page:

_Two leopards in skin,_

_Will aide the chosen one to win._

_One female spotted, on male black,_

_Between them no trait will they lack._

_A romance will blossom,_

_The outcome to be unknown._

_To help or to harm their fate,_

_By the time they know, it will be too late._

Hermione read it again. It was… Well, she didn't know what to think. It didn't make much sense. About all she got out of it was that there were 2 people, a witch and a wizard, who were leopard animagi. And they would help Harry to defeat Lord Voldemort. At least, she guessed that's what it meant. It wasn't clear as to what the chosen one would be winning.

As Hermione was reading what the book's collaborators thought about this prophecy and what it meant in relation to the downfall or up rise of Voldemort, the headmistress came in. "Good morning, Hermione." Professor McGonagall said.

Hermione looked up into her headmistress's face. "Good morning, Professor." She said. "What can I help you with? Surely you know the Malfoy is in the hospital wing." She said. Minerva McGonagall sat down in the second chair at the table.

"Well, Miss Granger, as you may well know, Professor Haddix is not teaching about the animagus form. She can't do it, so she won't be teaching it. I have decided to offer the course myself for a few select students who I believe are able to perform the difficult spells in order to reach their animagus form." She said.

"Okay, so… Who else have you asked, yet?" Hermione said, no yet belaying the fact that she would love to join in the class.

"Well, Miss Granger, I have asked yourself, Mr. Malfoy, two Ravenclaw students and a Hufflepuff. As you can see, it's a very small class. Are you going to join us? Everyone else has said yes." Professor McGonagall said, smiling as though she knew something that Hermione didn't.

Hermione nodded. "Okay, I'll give it a shot, Professor. When does the class start?" she asked.

"I will send a house elf to let you know. I haven't decided yet when it will begin, but it will be soon." She said, and left to go back to her planning and the general running of the school. "Goodbye, Miss Granger." She said. Hermione responded to the conversation end, and then stood up.

It was close to noon, and since Draco Malfoy was currently confined to his bed in the hospital wing, she was going to take full advantage of it. She would get that damned project done for Professor Kent if that was the last thing she did.

"Malfoy, can't you just please cooperate?" She yelled at the top of her lungs. They had been sitting there for about an hour and a half, and she had only gotten out of him that his favorite color was green.

"No. I cannot cooperate. I hate this project. I hate you." He said, glaring at her.

"I don't care what you hate or what you don't hate. You know what? I am not doing this. I brought your copy. You fill it out, here are my answers and my synopsis. All you have to do is finish it and turn it in." she said, throwing a filing folder at him, and stomping out of the room.

Draco surveyed the room. Papers were everywhere, from her file folder flying open midway onto his bed. Gingerly, he got out of the bed and began to pick up that papers, and put them into the file folder again. Draco's pet peeve: messes.

As it turned out, Draco did what Hermione asked. He finished his half of the project and turned it in. Hermione really didn't care right now, either way. So what if he did? He wouldn't sacrifice his grade to make sure she got a bad mark.

Professor McGonagall had sent the house elf to their common room the night before to announce that Animagus Classes would begin on the next Monday. Hermione couldn't wait.

That night was Sunday. The new class would start the next morning. Hermione was almost too excited to sleep as she put on her baby blue flannel pajamas with the little sheep on them and snuggled into her bed. On her night table sat the book about prophecies, open to the prophecy about the two animagus leopards…

**Okay, this is undoubtedly the first time I've put an author's note at the end of a chapter, but I want to thank everyone that has reviewed, and I also want to say that I am starting another story soon, so if I become a little too lax in posting the chapters for this story, that's probably why. Of course, like I said, I am almost never home anymore, and have transferred this story to disk so I can take it with me, but finding time to type is problem. Right now, my soon-to-be-sister-in-law and I are trying to plan a trip on the Hiawatha. That's a paddle boat tour where we live. Anyway, my sweet 16 is also on the 10th, and I would hate to miss that. Hopefully, I will get this posted on the 9th because I really don't want to be on the computer all day on my birthday. wishes beyond all hope that Mom and Dad bought me the nice old blue pickup that I was looking at Wish me luck with chapter writing, all! **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: This is probably going to be a short chapter. I haven't written much lately because I had a bit of a writer's block, and school was in the way. I'm really not sure how the end of this story is going to turn out. The plotline I had for this I wasn't sure how to work it in, and now I have no idea. I want to work it in, but I haven't figured out how.**

Hermione, Draco, and the other students all waited anxiously before the door of an old classroom. They were waiting for the headmistress to show up to teach their newest after-school class: Animagus Forms 101. Suddenly, their headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, rounded the corner and ushered them into the room after she unlocked it.

Each of the five students took a desk in the front of the room. Draco and Hermione were on opposite sides of the room, and were totally ignoring each other. The two Ravenclaws and the single Hufflepuff sat between them.

"Alright now, everyone, today we'll start off simple by learning the spell necessary to reveal your animagus form. Now, this spell will not allow you to become your alternate form, yet, but…" Professor McGonagall said, as the class began. Almost immediately, Draco's mind began to wander.

"Gods, doesn't she ever shut up? It's irritating, but I have got to take this class…" his mind wandered over every topic, and some random ideas, such as, "If penguins live in both polar hemispheres, are they bipolar?" and the like. Another one of his random thoughts was, "If stuff can explode, and stuff can implode, can it ever just plode? Like, just blink out of existence?"

Uncannily, the came thoughts were running through Hermione's mind. Well, maybe not the same, exact thoughts, but either way, she really wasn't paying attention. Her mind kept wandering back to the events of this year. All of the events, not just the normal ones. Her mind reeled, as it had for so many nights passed, about when Malfoy had spewed his secrets to her, when he had cried on her shoulder, when they became distant mortal enemies again, and when he had kissed her. She remembered when he fell through the fireplace bloodied, beaten, and half dead.

Suddenly, she snapped back to reality. "Miss Granger?" Professor McGonagall said.

"What? Oh. Yeah, uhm…" she began, faltering. She had no idea what she was responding to. Deer in the Headlights, her mother used to call it. "What was the question, again, Professor?" she asked.

Professor McGonagall looked stern. "I didn't ask a question. I wanted to know why you were not performing the aforementioned spell, as the rest of the class." She said.

Hermione blanched. "What spell?" she asked, before she could stop herself. The bad look on her professor's face turned from merely being 'stormy' to 'this storm will blow away the castle' stormy.

"The spell, Miss Granger, is the spell to reveal your animagus form. Mr. Malfoy is a black leopard, Miss Abbott is an otter, Mr. Boot is an eagle, Miss Patil is a horse, and you have yet to perform your spell! Now, repeat after me: Animagus Revelus." She said, swishing her wand at herself. A brown-grey tabby cat appeared in front of her in a ball of light.

Hermione quickly snapped into attention and preformed the spell right the first time. Since she had not been paying attention, she didn't know that she had been the only one to do that. In a ball of light before her, an African savannah appeared. Suddenly, from the grass, a large female spotted leopard leapt up into a great tree. She gasped in surprise.

"Well, done, Miss Granger." Professor McGonagall said, and then turned back to the class. She began to hand out some appears, obviously copies of restricted-section book pages. "I want you to read this, tonight. If you think you are able, you may attempt a transformation since you are all good students, and I doubt any of you will be stupid about it." She said, and dismissed the class.

Hermione and Draco trudged back to their common room together. "Granger…" Draco began. "I think, well. I think we have to talk. About, well, you know. What happened…" he said.

Hermione sucked air through her teeth. It resulted in sort of a hissing gasping sound, and Draco refused to meet her eyes, or look at her even. "Can it wait until we get into the common room?" she asked. He nodded jerkily.

"Uh, yeah, sure, I guess." He said. When they reached the portrait, they quickly said the password and entered.

"What is it… that you wanted to, er, talk about?" Hermione asked, setting her bag down, careful not to look at him.

"That's just it. I'm not sure. We, I… I'm confused, damnit, Granger!" he said.

She began to put a pot of hot water on the stove for tea. "Confused? About what? I'm not confused, Malfoy." She lied.

"What the hell do you mean you're not confused!" he said, striding over to her, She hurried to begin taking books from her bags, as he did.

"I'm not confused, Malfoy. I know that you didn't… That it wasn't…" she said, pulling books from her bag and setting them on the table. She felt him come up behind her.

"Damn, you, Granger! At least look at me when you lie to me. You know damned well that it had to have meant something!" he said, his face thoroughly flushed. He didn't quite know how to go about telling her that he fancied her. After all, how would it be accepted in the school?

Hermione turned around wicked fast. "Did it, Malfoy? Did it mean something? After all, I'm just the filthy little mudblood! You can't possible feel anything for me, so it had to mean nothing!" she yelled, poking him in the chest with her finger. "Don't you dare try to tell me that it meant something, Draco Malfoy!" she shrieked, and attempted to hit him.

With one hand he reached up and grabbed her wrist. "Do not hit me." He said, barely above a whisper.

"I'll hit you if I damn well want to hit you, you filthy, egotistical jackass!" she said, attempting to hit him with her other hand now. He grabbed this one, too.

"Now, damnit, Granger, I wanted to talk to you, not take a pummeling because you think it meant nothing when I know it meant something! After all, I'm the one that did it, don't you think I would know if it meant something or not?" he said, releasing her and stepping back.

Hermione stood rooted to the spot. She was flustered, and never once imagined she would be having this conversation with Draco Malfoy. She had envisioned herself having this conversation with Ron, perhaps, but certainly not her best friend's sworn enemy. Or, at least, his former sworn enemy, as the case may be. "I uh, I…" she began, and suddenly really didn't want to be there. "I'm really tired, I think…" She began to say.

"No! No, we need to have this conversation. I… I fancy you, and you fancy me. You just have to admit it to yourself, and then we need to figure out what to do about it. Together." He said.

Hermione tucked her head into her chest, pretty much defeated. "Draco, honestly, I do like you. But this isn't going to work. You're a Slytherin. I'm a Gryffindor. It just won't work out. No one would accept it, and it's hardly as though either house would be happy about it." She said, trying to be logical. When she was overly-stressed, like now, she always tried to be logical.

"How do you know? Seriously, now… Hermione, how do you know that? Maybe it would work out." He said, softly. Now the two of them were standing fairly close together, within touching distance, but their hands were at their sides, and they weren't looking at each other.

"Draco, it just wouldn't…" she began, but stopped when he began to kiss her.

"Hermione, please, just try… For my sake." He said, kissing her again, holding her chin in his hands.

"Draco, no. We can't do this." She said, kissing him back. "It's wrong…" she began.

"And I don't care, and neither should you." He said, pulling her in close.

"Alright…" she agreed. "But you must Harry and Ron." She said, wickedly, and kissed him again.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: This is going to be a long chapter! I apologize for it's massive length, although after my awful length away from writing, I'm sure some you will welcome it. Also, please note, this is just a filler chapter. I wanted to get Harry and Ron to know, and also to strengthen Draco and Hermione's relationship.**

**Disclaimer: It seems I may have forgotten one of these for the last chapter? No matter. I do not own Harry Potter… Draco Malfoy is another thing completely! Nope. Just kidding. He's not mine either. Only in my dreams that involve wands, whipped cream, and lots and lots of leather… Use your imagination!**

Harry and Ron sat dumbfounded in two armchairs in the common room in the heads' tower. Draco and Hermione sat in front of them in a loveseat.

"What?" Harry asked, not believing what he had just heard.

"Draco and I are… Well, we're dating, Harry." Hermione answered, casting a cautious glance at Draco.

Ron sat stoic. He didn't say anything. Well, not yet, anyway, but his ears were getting red, and his face was getting red, too. Hermione just knew he was going to blow up soon. And boy was she right.

Ron suddenly jumped up from his chair. "What? Am I not good enough for you, Hermione Granger? Just because I'm not bloody fucking rich, like Malfoy? You're only after him for his money, right? You can't be seriously dating him, Hermione!" he exploded.

Hermione stood up, and so did Draco. "Yes, Ronald. We… Well, we are going to give it a shot." She said.

"Give it a shot? Damnit, I'll give you a shot!" he said, and raised his hand to slap her.

Draco grabbed Ron's arm. "Don't you dare hit her." He said.

Ron snorted. "Why in the hell not? Maybe it'll knock some sense into her, although it never did before!" he yelled.

Harry stood at Ron's side. "Ron, let's go." He said. Ron shook his head. Harry tired again. "Ron, let's go. Now." He said, and led Ron out of the room. He didn't agree with Hermione dating Draco, but there wasn't much he could do about it, now was there?

He led Ron out of the tower as quickly as he could, and honestly wished the couple the best of luck – they'd need it. No one was going to accept this, not even the Hufflepuffs, and they didn't seem to mind anything.

Draco turned around to Hermione. He gently placed a kiss on her lips. "I think they took it quite well." He said.

Hermione shook her head, obviously shaken. "I need to go lay down." She said.

Draco smirked his trademark smirk. Hermione saw it and groaned to herself. He wasn't going to say it… Surely he wouldn't… "Can I join you?" he asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and gave him a gentle shove. "No, you may not!" she said, playing along with him. She turned and began to go to her room. She hadn't moved more than three feet when she felt Draco's seeker-calloused hand on her upper arm. "I said no, you can't join me!" she said, thinking he was still playing with her.

He wasn't. Draco's face was serious, and his stormy grey-blue eyes were searching her face. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Hermione was shocked by his sudden change of mood. "I'm fine, Draco." She said, but her voice shook a little. In truth, she was a little shaken, thus the reason she was going to go lay down.

Draco's eyes searched hers. "No, no you're not. You're upset." He said.

Hermione was upset. The last time she had been hit by Ron had been quite awhile ago, and truth be told. She was a bit afraid of him. He had started out to be caring and kind, albeit a little clingy and possessive, but nice. However, he had gotten very possessive, and then he had become abusive. Draco had seen, or heard, a bit of that at Grimmauld Place.

Of course, Hermione had always dealt with Ron by herself, using glamour charms to cover the bruises, and acting like everything had been fine. She was a little afraid that Draco was going to become like Ron, and she just couldn't handle that.

When Hermione didn't respond, Draco spoke again. "You're afraid of Weasley. He was abusive, wasn't he?" he asked. Hermione didn't respond, but Draco saw the flash of shame in her eyes. It was like his mother's.

The Malfoy family had always put on a strong front, but Lucius had been anything but loving to his family, especially his son, and didn't hesitate to punish his wife when she failed to meet his expectations, and Draco had often helped his mother to her room after his father finished with her, and noticed the flash of shame in Hermione's eyes. Like his mother, she thought that the abuse was all her fault, although she didn't allow anyone to know that.

Draco pulled Hermione to him. She buried her face into his neck and shoulder, and cried shamelessly. For months she had wanted to do this, and now she finally could. She allowed her tears to flow freely as Draco simply held her.

After a moment, he picked her up princess style, and carried her to his bed, laid her down on it, and tucked her into his fluffy bedspread. Draco kissed her on the forehead, and went up into Hermione's room and grabbed her bedspread. He took it down into the common room and bedded down for the night in the common room.

The next morning, Draco awoke to the sound of running water below him. Hermione was using his shower. He smiled to himself, and folded up her blanket. He placed it on the coffee table, and grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter in the kitchenette. Just before he took a bite, he changed his mind. He put it back and grabbed an orange.

He peeled it, being careful to leave as much of the creamy-white pulp as possible. He loved that part of the orange. He sectioned it into a small bowl, and cut the sections in half. Then, deciding he had a sweet tooth that morning, he sprinkled a little bit of sugar on the orange pieces, and poured himself a cup of coffee.

Draco smiled as he felt a pair of arms circle around him from the back. "Good morning, Draco." Hermione said. Draco turned around, and wrapped his arms around her, giving her a hug.

Still hugging her, he asked, "Do you want breakfast?"

Hermione giggled. Her ear was up against his neck, and it made the normal low rumble of his voice sound funny. "I'll take that as a yes?" he asked. She nodded.

"Let me get dressed." She said, and pulled away from him. She grabbed a half slice of his orange, a sip of his coffee (she grimaced at the bitter taste), and ran up to her room.

"Dress nice!" he called after her. "We're going to Hogsmeade today!" he called.

From the top of the turret, he heard her call down, "Okay!"

Draco sighed contentedly. In his wildest dreams he had never thought of this happening. He was dating the mudblood Gryffindor princess, and he was happy. God, was he happy.

Draco dropped a chunk of orange into his coffee, mixed it around a bit with a spoon, and contentedly drank his coffee. He grabbed his bowl of orange chunks, his drink, and walked down the spiral staircase into his dorm.

Draco went into his bathroom, and started the shower running, all the while eating his oranges. He set his stereo to 'on', and undressed as a new song from the Weird Sisters album played. She stepped into the steamy shower.

Hermione didn't know what to wear. She didn't know Draco was going to take her. She only had three dresses in her closet, and she wanted to look good for him.

One was a floor length baby blue gown. That was from the Yule ball, and she honestly didn't think she could cram herself into it again. Her chest had grown in the three years since then.

The second dress she pulled out was cute little black thing. Her mother always said that girls all needed a little black dress. Hers was lace. It was a two-tier dress, just above her knees. Then, on her belly, it was ruched sideways to accentuate her trim tummy, and on the chest it had up-and-down ruching to accentuate her chest. Tiny spaghetti straps went over her shoulders, but they were pretty much useless. She had a black wrap to go with it, and black heels. Hermione loved that dress, but she wasn't sure Draco would like it.

Her other dress was forest green, with a black lace overlay, yet another gift from her mother. It had a wide black satin strip to form an empire wait, and it flowed outwards and down to her knees. The same wrap and shoes would go with that dress, and she knew that Draco loved green.

Hermione chose the second dress. Not only was it a little longer, she just knew Draco would love it. She slipped it on, and followed up her shoes. The little black shoes had three inch heels and a tiny little bow on them. The rounded toe was cute. She grabbed her wrap and headed down to the common room.

Draco had dressed in somewhat baggy black jeans, and had put on a button-down forest green shirt. He nervously fingered the tiny black box in his pocket. It held something he had wanted to give to Hermione for quite some time: his mother's locket.

The locket was in the shape of a book, and opened like a book. At one inch by ½ inch, it was a little bit big, but he knew that Hermione would love it. It was made out of white gold, and had tiny stones – peridot and emerald – imbedded into the surface. It hung from a thin, delicate white gold chain. Inside, it was empty. He didn't know what to put inside. His mother had always had a picture of Draco as a young boy.

Draco's breath caught in his lungs as Hermione descended the stairs. The green silk behind the black lace was the same color as Draco's silk shirt.

Hermione tucked her curly hair behind her ear when she reached the bottom of the stairs. "You like?" she asked, giving him a twirl.

"It's perfect." He breathed. "The dress is perfect, and you are perfect. There's only one thing that could make it more perfect." He said, withdrawing the black leather box. He handed it to her.

Hermione cautiously opened the box. Inside was the most gorgeous locket she had ever seen. A carved Slytherin crest befitted the front, and in the corners were emerald green stones. Lighter green peridot stones shimmered as they framed the edge of the book shaped locket. "Oh, Draco…" she breathed. "It's gorgeous." She said.

Draco smiled as she lifted the delicate locket from the box. Even though it was large, it was very thin. It was about as thick as the narrow edge of a popsicle stick. Draco lifted the locket from her fingers, and walked behind it to put it around her neck. She lifted her hair off of her neck as he clipped the delicate lobster claw clasp.

He walked back in front of her. "Perfection." He stated. She smiled. "Are we ready to go, my dear?" he asked her, offering his arm. Hermione smiled and took it.

The pair received several strange looks as they walked, however, most had not yet heard of the relationship, yet. Of course, it was only natural that the head boy and head girl would go out and about together, for appearance's sake.

As they walked, Hermione came up with the most brilliant question yet: "Draco, where are we going?"

Draco only smiled. "Relax." He said. "You'll love it." He didn't offer any more information than that as they hopped up into the head's carriage. It was a sleek black Victorian thing pulled by a pair of chestnut red horses, thoroughbreds in all likelihood. It was manned by a driver, and two coachmen.

Soon, they were in Hogsmeade, but Draco ordered the driver to continue on to an address Hermione didn't know. "Draco, where are we going?" she asked again. Again, Draco only smiled.

Within a few moments, Hermione was completely lost. They were far away from the general area where students shopped. The driver pulled the horses to a gentle stop, and the coachmen hopped down and opened the doors to the cab, and helped Hermione out. Draco paid them a tip, and Draco and Hermione entered the building.

Hermione gasped. It was… It was amazing. From Draco she had expected something much more… Well, much more energetic. Inside, was a coffee shop. But better yet, the walls were covered with books! Draco saw her eyes light up, and chuckled to himself. "Don't fret. We're not there yet." He said, and walked to a back corner. He pressed his palm to a worn circle in the paneling of the wall, and a door opened.

Inside, it was a club. Not just any ordinary club, but a night club type place. Neon lights flashed, and smoke clung to everything. Various Slytherins were drinking all sorts of concoctions, all presumably alcoholic. "Welcome," he said, "to the Red Barman."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hermione and Draco get a little wild in this chappie… My naughty side was coming out after writing the disclaimer for the last chapter, and looking at some naughty NC-17 pics of dear old Draco.**

**Disclaimer: It's dumb that we have to put these on every chapters, because after all, everyone who writes stories on here so owns what they are writing about. After all, it is FAN For those of you who were too dense to sense the sarcasm, that means I don't own Harry Potter.**

Hermione looked at Draco. This was just what she expected from him. "Draco…" she began.

Draco laughed. "Come on then, don't be shy!" he said, and walked up to the bar. Hermione had little choice but to follow. "Two firewhiskeys!" he called over the thumping bass of the music. With in seconds, two were thrust at him, and Draco paid the man.

"Here." He said, and pushed one into Hermione's hand.

"Draco, I've never…" she said, weakly protesting to this underage madness.

"It's alright, Hermione." He said. "It's just one glass. What can go wrong?" he asked.

Hermione remembered that statement… The last thing she remembered before waking up in Draco's bed, and running to bathroom with a nasty feeling she was going to throw up. And throw up she did.

Draco eased himself out of bed and walked into the bathroom. His head throbbed. His thought was sore. His eyes burned, and he didn't even think about turning on the lights. This late in the game, he knew where it would get him. It wasn't the first time that he had visited the Red Barman.

Hermione wretched into the toilet again. Draco turned around to her. His eyes widened. She looked at him. Her eyes widened. "Blimey!" he muttered.

"Bloody hell! We're… We didn't… Did we?" she stammered. Draco knew very well what Hermione was wondering. Had they done the deed? She was nude, and so was he.

"I don't… I don't know, Hermione…" he said. Both of their eyes went even wider, if possible. Hermione stood up, and got a bit woozy. She slipped on the floor tiles, and Draco caught her.

"I… I think I'm going to go get dressed…" she said, and quickly left the room. Draco grimaced. Had they… Good lord, he didn't know what to think. He opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of lilac liquid. He grimaced as he swallowed the foul tasting concoction before the vomit urges kicked in.

Draco walked back into his dorm, and searched in vain for his clothing from last night. After a few minutes, he gave up and pulled out fresh clothes. He dressed and headed up to the common room to make some coffee or something. When he reached the common room, he discovered his clothing… And Hermione's. It was strewn about all over.

Draco shook his head, instantly regretting it, and quickly made a pot of coffee. He poured himself a cup as Hermione walked down the stairs in sweat pants and an oversized T-Shirt.

She sat down on the couch and put her head in her hands. "What did we do last night?" she moaned. Draco wordlessly poured another cup of coffee and pushed it into Hermione's hands. She looked up at him.

"It'll sober you up quicker." He offered.

She sipped her coffee. "Draco, what did we do? I hurt all over…" she said, and laid back on the sofa.

Draco went to sip his coffee again, but yelped, clutched his arm, and dropped his coffee. Hermione looked at him. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Draco didn't answer, but went down into his dorms, and emerged a moment late with his Death Eater robes in his hand, and threw some floo powder into the fire. Hermione sighed, and took another sip of her coffee. She was still too hung over to worry over Draco.

She finished her coffee, put the cup in the sink, and went up to her bed to go to sleep. She was tired.

A few hours later, she was awoken by Draco screaming her name from downstairs. She shot out of bed at the utter horror in his voice.

"Draco, what's wrong?" she asked, running down the stairs.

"We have to tell Harry!" he said.

Hermione looked confused. "Tell Harry what?" she asked, as he ran for the portrait hole.

"Voldemort! He's going to attack Hogwarts!" he yelled. Hermione's eyes flew open, and she joined in the search for Harry.

Hermione ran into the library. He wasn't in the open, however, she suspected he was sleeping in the Muggle Poetry section, as usual. She burst into that section, with Draco tailing her.

"Harry!" she yelped as soon as she found him. "Harry! You-Know-Who! He's getting ready to attack Hogwarts!" she said, panting. Draco stood beside her, still cloaked in his Death Eater robes.

"What?" he asked, barely awake. "Voldemort, Potter! Voldemort! He's going to attack Hogwarts tonight!" he snapped. Harry looked at him.

"He wouldn't do that."

Draco glared at him hard, and pulled up his sleeve, revealing a dark, black, burned-in brand. "If he can do this, he can do anything. And he is going to attack. He is, Potter. You'd prepare if you were smart."

Subconsciously, Harry felt at the raised scar on his right forearm, where Wormtail had cut him in fourth year, after the Triwizard Cup had been a portkey to the graveyard. "I… I suppose…" he said.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Prepare, Potter. Hermione and I, we'll do the best we can to aid you." He said, but doubted that Harry would prepare much. After all, why would he trust a Death Eater?

He turned on his heel, and fled back to the Heads' Tower. Hermione followed. When they burst through portrait hole, Hermione asked, "How are we going to help him?" she asked. "Are we going to do research?" she asked.

Draco rounded on her. "Narrow minded, are you not? Have you forgotten? You are an animagus, like me. Voldemort will be coming through the forbidden forest. If nothing else, we can stop him there. Transform. We will gather the animals in the forest who can help us." He said, stripping out of his outer Death Eater robes.

Hermione didn't question Draco as she transformed into the beautiful spotted leopard, and he into the sleek black leopard. Together they ran to the forest to rally the animals about.

Harry half heartedly read up on a few spells. It was unlikely Draco was telling the truth. It had been ages since Draco and Hermione had burst into the library and told him about Voldemort. It must have been well past midnight. He sat leaning against the picture window in his dorm, reading by the moonlight.

Suddenly, a series of loud popping sounds – spells being cast – rang out on the grounds. Harry jumped up and looked out the window as his dorm mates jumped out of bed. "Blimey!" someone yelled.

Harry gasped out loud and ran to the headmistress, pulling Ron along with him. Voldemort was attacking. Something had to be done.

He didn't know it, but Draco and Hermione had failed miserably. The animals, which for some reason they could speak to, mostly didn't believe Draco and Hermione until the last second. While they made an impact, it was hardly the major slaughter that they were searching for.

Hermione and Draco sat up in a tree, communicating silently.

"Draco, we should help." She said.

Draco's feline form shook his mighty head. "No. If we wait until there is only Harry and Voldemort, we can distract Voldemort with our relationship. It will throw him off. Harry will be able to kill him easier."

Hermione's spotted form sat still. "I suppose you are right." She conceded. "But, in the mean time… Can I just pick off the little one? With the silver hand?" she questioned.

Draco's mind laughed at her. "No, no you may not."

Although they hadn't planned it, the battle was growing weaker by the second. Compared to the number of students, the weakened Death Eater ranks were being destroyed. Soon, all too soon, only Harry, most of the other students, Voldemort, and a couple of Death Eaters remained.

"Show time." Draco said, and leapt from the tree, his long tail helping him to balance. Hermione followed suit and they ran to Harry's aide, but kept well out of site.

"Voldemort…" Harry said.

Voldemort turned to him. "Yes, boy?" he asked, with an arrogant tone. "Have you come to meet your death? Join your parents, and that Diggory boy?"

"No, I've come to kill you!" Harry yelled.

Draco stepped out from behind a bush. "My Lord!" he called. "I wish to inform you of something you may find unfavorable!"

Voldemort turned to stare at the bold teen. "What is it, boy?" he growled, and let out a horrid scream of torture as Draco disarmed the aging villain, and Harry put him under the Cruciatus curse.

Draco added his strength to the curse.

"No, Malfoy! Let me do this on my own!" Harry yelled.

"Not in your wildest dreams, Potter. You aren't strong enough to kill him. No one is, alone!" he yelled. "Release him, Potter. I'll hold him, and you prepare the killing curse. You are the only one who can do it." He finished.

Harry hesitated. "Draco, why should I—"

"Just do it! Damnit!" he yelled. Harry released him, and sent the killing curse at Voldemort.

Voldmort's rapidly cooling corpse lay on the grass, as the two teens collapsed on the grass, exhausted from the effort.

Hermione walked out of the bushes, and helped both of them to their feet. Draco stepped forward and Hermione with him. Draco spit on the corpse. "You were never my master." He said, with utmost disgust.

Together, they all walked back to the castle. Hermione wondered for a moment where Ron was. All three of them walked into the common room. As they did, Hermione let out a shrill scream, and fell to the floor. Draco and Harry's breath caught.

Ron was suspended from the neck in the common room. A chair stood behind his corpse, along with a quill and a piece of parchment. Harry dropped to his knees, and wanted to throw up. Draco stepped forward and picked up the piece of parchment, and read it out loud.

"_Obviously, dear Hermione, I wasn't enough._

_It seems that you need a man with money, and I'm not that._

_I regret that you couldn't see that I was more man than he,_

_But now you'll have to be with him. _

_You didn't choose me, the most obvious love you could have,_

_And so now I choose death, the only option for a poor,_

_Unloved man. _

_Maybe some day you'll come to realize this is all your fault,_

_You gold digging bitch."_

Hermione sobbed into the carpet, and Harry held her by the shoulders. Draco dropped the parchment and knelt next to Hermione as well, holding her to him in a vain attempt to comfort her.

Harry stood up. "Someone must inform the headmistress." He said, trying to be stoic, but failing miserably at the attempt, with his best friend strung up before him.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: This is the last installment of Untitled, Everyone! I'm thankful for everyone who has read my story, and I am even more thankful for those of you who have read and reviewed, be it good or bad. If you stuck with this little novella over the months that I had abandoned it (and there are a couple of you that have; you know who you are) than I absolutely love you and send you lots and lots of sweets! There won't be a sequel, so don't ask. Also, this just an epilogue, not an actual chapter. Without further ado, may I present to you, the last and final installment of Untitled!**

**Disclaimer: As I do not own Harry Potter, or Draco Malfoy, my psychologist says it would be inappropriate to dream of chaining them up and covering them with fluffy whipped cream, however much I or they would enjoy it. She says it is also inappropriate for me to use marshmallows, chocolate sauce, or other delectable eatables in these "fantasies".**

It had been 14 years since the downfall of Voldemort, 14 years since Ronald Weasley's suicide in the Heads' Tower, and more importantly 14 years since the disappearance of Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger.

Today, Harry Potter and his wife, Ginny, were sending their two fine children off to Hogwarts. The eldest, a bright red headed boy, was named Ronald, after his uncle. He was starting his 2nd year. His younger brother, James, took after his father. He was starting his f1st year this year, and Ginny and Harry couldn't be much more pleased than they were.

Harry and Ginny stood in the back of the crowd after they had boarded their children, and noticed a couple of new faces. "Ginny, look over there. Who is that couple?" Harry asked, pointing to a tall man with ashen blonde hair, and a shorter, plumpish woman with curly chocolate brown locks.

"Why, it looks like Draco and Hermione!" Ginny said, startled. Harry watched the couple as they boarded their only child, a fair haired girl with white-blonde hair.

"No, no, it couldn't be, Ginny. They're… They're gone Ginny. Hermione's not coming back to us." Harry said, tears nearly springing to his eyes more than decade later.

"I know, Harry, I know. But every time I see someone who resembles them, I just…" she said, not finishing her sentence. Harry knew what she meant. She had said it enough times.

They walked away, back through the platform wall, as the train blew its whistle. They never would find out where Hermione and Draco disappeared to. It wasn't that they hadn't looked; it was just that the couple couldn't be found. The reason, the reader may ask?

Death has an unfortunate way of making even the most conspicuous people hard to find.

_The End_

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**Okay, now I know there are people out there going, "What in the world?". Let me explain. There will be no sequal to this story about the other characters, so do not ask. I only do D/Hr pairings, for now, anyway. I may do a side-story, if enough people ask me and the mood strikes me. shrugg That's about all I have to say.**


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